


Fatherhood…  Or, that's not what Trick or Treat mean!

by Yeziel_Moore



Series: Dancing With Angels [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Supernatural
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeziel_Moore/pseuds/Yeziel_Moore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gains a new guardian and so the world is doomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fatherhood…  Or, that's not what Trick or Treat mean!

**Author's Note:**

> The crossover with KHR! is, once again, minimal.

  
**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Supernatural or Harry Potter or KHR! Only this is mine.  
_ **Words:** _2052._

* * *

_  
_Today was shaping to be 'one of those days', Loki would bet his stash of sweets on it, which definitely said something as he would steal sweets from children's hands before giving up his own.

Like always happen on 'those days', things started out well, excellent even. He woke up from a much (un)needed sleep at some point in mid-morning, a snap of his magic-y finger later and he was being fed a breakfast fit for kings by a beauty he had seen at some point in his long and fun-filled life. At that point his routine had 'MISCHIEF' written all over it and he was more than happy to comfort with that particular idea. The following minutes, however, were spent in indecision about where to relocate his base of operations, more specifically, where he wouldn't be hunted on sight…

Some people just didn't know when to let go of their grudges.

Taking that tiny detail into account… well, that actually crossed out a fair amount of fun places, which just plain sucked if you asked him. So it was like that, with a fair amount of sulking and pouting added for good measure, that Loki transported himself to the chosen place where his Dart of Doom TM had landed. With the god's departure the luxurious place he had inhabited started to fade as its supply of magic was cut short. The last thing that could be seen before everything vanished and the old storeroom reappeared was a map with a hole, a map with a hole made by a very destructive dart, a hole where Syracuse ***** used to be.

Those poor, poor Italians. May God have mercy on their souls.

Nevertheless, and against the very flow of Fate and Destiny, the Italians would come on top of this one. It happened while Loki was somewhat distracted by his preparation of a nasty (and very, very deadly) surprise to the head of the Estraneo Famiglia. It was Halloween so he had allowed himself (even) more leeway than usual; and besides, even with his skewed sense of justice, Loki knew that this bastard deserved everything he got and then some. So immersed in his artwork he was that he never noticed anything amiss, not until he was suddenly and very rudely yanked from his place in Italy and dumped who-know-where. He certainly didn't know where nor did he care.

Fortunately for his plans, Loki had managed to finish at least half of the surprise. It may not kill the douchebag but it was guaranteed to put the fear of God in the bastard, as well as beat whatever reputation he had out of him. And who knows, with any luck the trickster may be able to come back and finish the set-up.

The truth is that Loki won't come back, but the incident will unleash chaos and paranoia will spread like a disease, as a consequence most of the guards will be ordered out of their post and relocated to guard their injured boss leaving other areas somewhat unattended. One of those areas would be the labs where inhuman experiments were conducted on children. Grasping the opportunity presented to him, one Rokudo Mukuro will escape his cell and gladly finish the work that the God of Mischief had started even if he didn't know that last detail. After everything was said and done, covered from head to toe in blood and other disgusting things, Rokudo Mukuro will simply smile and sent a silent thank you to whatever deity had granted him the opportunity of his life.

But back to Loki, and as he stated at the beginning, this really was one of 'those days'. Loki grumbled and cursed a blue streak as he collected his dishevelled self from his impromptu landing-pad, which turned out to be someone's rose bushes. Ouch.

He looked around while dusting his clothes, which happened before he remembered that he was a god and as such he didn't need to do menial work, like dusting himself  _manually_. He was impeccable in the span on a blink.

As far as he could guess from his vantage point he had been thrown into some backwards, tiny and isolated town in the middle of fucking nowhere. Fan-fucking-tastic. Honestly, you just needed to add some snow and you got yourself an eighteen century Hallmark postcard. It made him want to puke.

Or destroy something. Yeah, better destroy something.

Anyway, he wasn't staying in a town that didn't have electricity and where everyone was inside their houses at eight p.m. Seriously, where was the fun in that? It was Halloween for crying out loud!

Before he could act on his thoughts though, somebody appeared. Literally. That was enough to rouse the trickster's curiosity. What could a magic user possibly want in this hillbilly town? Deciding that he could spare some minutes to satiate his curiosity, Loki bent reality around his body to make himself invisible.

The newcomer was approaching with fast and impatient strides. The strides were strong and long, a man's stride. A sound of rustling and flapping clothes betrayed that the man was also wearing some sort of long garment, probably a coat. Loki knew better, he knew that the magical community in England was so backward that they still used  _robes_. He much preferred pants over any kind of dress since the moment they were invented, _thankyouverymuch_. The man reached the limit of the property he was currently in; he raised his wand - _Loki sneered at the stick of wood_ \- and chanted something in Latin. He didn't pay attention and was regretting staying altogether when a sound like breaking glass reached his ears. He looked around in time to see the house wards break and disappear as if they had never been there. Wards he had bypassed by merely falling on them.

The man wasted no time and strode past Loki and into the house proper, after blasting the door in an overly-dramatic way,  _of course_. Which villain didn't do that? Curious again and despite his better judgment -or what passed as judgment for someone like him- Loki followed. What happened next could only be described as terribly boring - _the man's defeat_ -, somewhat brave but ultimately stupid - _the woman's death_ -, and intensely interesting - _the baby's victory_. How could that little bag of flesh woven by life and magic accomplish such a feat was not something Loki could understand. His other self was closer to understanding the complexities of human nature but not by much so he didn't bother in changing mindsets.

He traced his index finger close to the wound on the baby's forehead, smearing blood in the process but not caring. A lightning bolt. It was a curious mark to have on one's forehead, made doubly especial by the dark presence inside it. Chaos was always special, aligned with Fate it could only bring Mayhem. Truly a beautiful combination. Emerald-green eyes opened and regarded him with curiosity and something deeper, hidden away for now but always lurking close to the surface. The baby blinked and the dangerous feeling was lost; forgotten, however, it was not.

Loki somehow knew that this boy would be lots of fun to be around one day. Even if the boy didn't do anything remarkable, something Loki couldn't picture no matter how hard he tried, Chaos would always follow him like a lost puppy. A stray thought hit him then. What would happen if the boy was aware of it, if the boy guided with a fine hand the flow of Chaos? Loki's eyes gained an interested and calculating glint.  _That_  he could see. What he could not picture was the reason he was having such thoughts in the first place. This human boy had nothing to do with him and he certainly didn't care about him, so from where were this thoughts coming? Not from him, not entirely at least.

Something didn't add up and Loki hated it when things didn't add up. It usually ended in betrayal, or abandonment, or endless pain, or all of the above.

The answer was whispered gently into his brain but to him it felt as if someone had slammed a sledge hammer in his head, repeatedly. His entire being shook violently, not from the force of the voice but from the emotions it evoked, all of them negative except for one: Love. No matter how much he hated the origin of the voice, how much agony he suffered, how sad he was, how indifferent he acted, how cold he became or how rebellious he turned out to be, he still loved Him. Because, which son could not love their Father?

Loki crumbled, his façade, his mask crumbled; not entirely for he had been Loki for too long, he still was Loki in his heart; but now, instead of a Nordic God of Mischief, a completely different being stood in his place. A being of light and purity, of beauty and loyalty, of everything good that had ever existed and will ever exist. A being that had cold eyes, a sharp wit and a sharper tongue, a being that had suffered and had been beaten down until he ran away and cloaked himself with the smokescreen of Paganism. But his smoke had been blown away and Gabriel didn't remember a time when he felt more naked than now, never mind the fact that he was clothed.

Gabriel didn't utter a word, either too ashamed or too angry to give them form and wings, he didn't know. He didn't utter a word but he listened attentively, partly because he had to and partly because he had missed his Father's voice, he had missed Him so much… all of them had. Their Father's absence was like a gaping hole of madness and everything dark and hurtful in the universe. There was a time when he thought that if the hole in his chest grew any bigger it would end up swallowing him whole. Sometimes he didn't think it would be that bad, certainly preferable to the half-life all of them walked.

God's voice trailed away, leaving the path open in the middle of a crossroad. He was being given a choice. That was new, Gabriel thought absently, emotions still too raw to dwell on them but his mind was clear like the waters of Heaven. That brought a fresh wave of homesickness strong enough to make him cringe physically. But back to his options…

Gabriel looked at the baby, Harry, who returned the favour with bright green eyes. Now he knew why he had thought about taking the kid under his, Loki's, wing, or wings as the case may be. Cautiously he picked the little human up and carefully accommodated his arms around the fragile body. Harry seemed to like the change if the broad smile on his chubby face was any indication. A moment later he yawned and with little to no preamble he fall asleep, left thumb in his mouth and his other hand fisted around Gabriel's clothing. And damn it if that scene didn't melt the Archangel-slash-Trickster's heart at least a little bit.

Gabriel caressed the bloody forehead again, cleaning the blood and healing the wound as much as it could be healed. Harry sighed and snuggled closer to his only source of comfort in the world, angelic face peaceful even as the strands of Fate and the forces of Chaos wound themselves to his little frame. Gabriel followed suit and sighed too. His decision had been made for him by the little tyke it seems.

"I hope You know what You're doing Dad, 'cause this will be the trickiest upbringing of the century and if the world is not ready it may just explode," Gabriel murmured softly, still looking at the baby.

With that Loki came back to the forefront of their being and a chilling smile took over his handsome features. Gabriel the Archangel and Loki the Trickster may be the same being, two parts of the same whole, but Harry was not going to be Gabriel's son, he was Loki's and the God of Mischief was going to make sure that his Heir was more than up to the tasks and hurdles ahead of him.

 

**Author's Note:**

>  ***** Syracuse, Sicily in Italy. Just in case 'cause there is one in New York, I think.


End file.
